In Memoriam
by Indigo Stars
Summary: Mark goes to visit Roger and tell him all the things that never got to be said.


Title: In Memoriam

Author: Indigo Stars

Feedback: I am a feedback WHORE!

Pairing: None, slight Mark/Roger

Word Count: 1,072

Rating: M

Genre: Angst.

Summary: Mark goes to visit Roger and tell him all the things that never got to be said.

Notes: Mark's POV. _Thoughts_ Actions.

Spoilers: Angel died. gaspeth

Warnings: Very dark. Suicide.

Disclaimer: RENT belongs to Jonathan Larson regretfully gives Mark and Roger back to him I just wanted to borrow them for a bit…The quote on the headstone was from Elie Wiesel.

I walk slowly into a well-manicured field filled with stones. Stones, and bodies. I step carefully around graves, trying not to step on anyone. I walk through the rows and look at the flowers placed on some graves. I wonder if I should have brought flowers instead. But they don't last. They die, just like everything else. I didn't want Roger to die. We both knew it was coming. The high fever, the pale skin, the shaking, the vomiting; Roger was dead the next morning. I sat with him all night. We fell asleep together. Oh, what I would have told him if I had known he would never wake up.

As I walk, I start scanning the headstones, because I know I'm nearing his. Alicia Faison, 23 years old, loving wife, beautiful daughter. Matthew Bandar, 76 years old, may God receive his soul. Roger Davis, 25 years old, "The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference."

I stop and stare at the headstone. I place my stones on top of his grave marker and I sit down next to his grave. The grass is damp, still wet from the rain during the evening. The gray of dawn is just breaking. The sun won't be up for another hour. Silence resonates across the misty field. Not a bird, nor insect is making a sound. I can hear the wind whispering tales of grief and sadness.

_Happy Birthday Roger. I can't believe you would have been thirty today. Everything's changed so much here. Maureen left Joanne; they had this big fight about their future, Joanne saying Maureen wasn't serious enough, and Maureen claiming Joanne was too serious. Maureen claims she is bisexual now, and that she doesn't have to conform to anybody's labeling of her sexual orientation and that she'll "fuck who she wants to fuck". Collins got a job at NYU. He's doing pretty well. He still misses Angel a lot too. We all miss her. We miss you too, Rog._

_We had a party for you yesterday. Collins, Maureen, and Joanne came, even Mimi stopped by. She's dating a guy named David. He owns a bar. They had a kid, a baby girl, two months ago. She's beautiful, she looks just like Mimi, except she has David's green eyes. We can't wait to see what she looks like when she grows up._

_I got a job. I work for a small company, making films and documentaries to fill peoples' orders. It's not the best, but it pays the rent. I still live at the loft. I can't leave our home. I still think that I can't leave, because maybe you just went to Santa Fe, and you'll come back to the loft and you'll need me and I won't be there._

_I miss you so much it hurts, Roger. I see you everywhere. I'll be filming and think I see you out of the corner of my eye. I get so excited, then I see it's not you and I'm crushed all over again. _

_You haunt my dreams. A few nights ago, I dreamt that you were still alive. You were healthy, and happy. We walked into the loft and sat down on the couch. As soon as we sat, you started dying. You became thin and gaunt, paler than the paper you held in your hand. I tried to get up to get you off the couch but it was too late. You died in my arms. I took the piece of paper from your hands and written on it was, "It's all your fault." I know it's my fault. I could have saved you. I should have saved you. I should have never let you do heroine in the first place. I should have made you get tested sooner to treat it. I should have gotten more money for better treatment. I should have taken batter care of you. I shouldn't have let you die. I should have told you how much I love you._

_You haunt my thoughts. I can think of nothing but you. You cloud my mind, and when I shut my eyes, all I see is you. I can't focus on anything. I can't fall asleep at night. Some days, when it gets really bad, I pretend that you're here with me. You sit with me on our couch, or play me a new song on your guitar, and although it's the cheesiest song I've ever heard, I love it because you wrote it. Because I love you._

_I never told you. I always thought that you knew, and I didn't need to say it, but I did. I was just scared, scared that you'd reject me or hate me for it. Scared you wouldn't love me too._

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all the things I did and didn't do. I'm sorry that I'm above ground and you're below. I'm sorry I never told you I loved you._

With shaking hands, I pull the knife out of my pocket. It's a beautiful knife, with a black handle and words engraved on the handle in golden script. "Amor Victum Omnis". Love conquers all.

_I'm sorry I'm not dead._

I place the blade on my wrist, and the cool of the blade relaxes me. I press and feel the skin split, a sharp shoot of pain, and the warm blood bubbling up.

_I deserve this pain._

Continuing to press, and not hesitating for a moment, I slide the blade across my wrist.

_This is for the times I've hurt you._

I pass the knife to the other hand, feeling the blood pour steadily down my arm.

_This is for not telling you I love you._

I place the blade against my other wrist and cut, long and deep. The pain becomes too much now, and I drop the blood-covered knife onto the ground. I hold my dripping wrists over Roger's grave.

_This is for killing you_.

I watch my blood fall onto his grave. In the back of my mind, I wonder how much longer it will be before I die.

_I'm sorry._

Then I came upon the release I had desired for so long. I blacked out, and closed my eyes one last time.

_I'm sorry._


End file.
